Mis Amas Vin
by Reiko Katsura
Summary: A collection of drabbles and ficlets revolving around the relationship of Harry and Draco. The stories will all range from 100-999 words, and will cover many genres, types, and ratings. They will not make up a single series. Themes will vary. H/D Slash.
1. Hold Me

**A/N: Hello, everyone. This will be my collection of Harry/Drabbles and ficlets (100-999 words). Mainly drabbles, though. It took me ages to decide on a title for this collection, but I finally settled with "Mis Amas Vin", which means "I love/like you" in Esperanto. **

**Please keep in mind that the drabbles vary in genre and rating. One drabble could be fluffy and sugary and the one right after could be downright depressing. Keep that in mind. **

**Now, without further ado, here they are:**

* * *

**The following Drabbles were written for the DracoHarry100 prompt _Hold Me_. Each one is exactly 100 words. **

* * *

**[SUMMER CHILL]**

They'd been sleeping together for a year. For one whole year, Draco and Harry had been sneaking around Hogwarts, shagging and snogging anywhere anyone wasn't looking. They weren't in love—no, they both made it quite clear when they started this sordid liaison of theirs that their relationship was simply sexual.

Nothing has changed, Draco thought, somberly.

Somehow, Draco found himself shortening the distance between himself and his bed partner. He swallowed thickly, positioned himself behind Harry's back, and scooted in.

"Draco?" Harry murmured sleepily, ever the light dozer. "What're you doing?"

"I'm cold," Draco muttered, and tightened his sweaty arms.

* * *

**[NEVER LET GO]**

Since even before the war I've suffered from anxiety attacks. Fits of hyperventilation caused by the unbearable weight of everyone's expectations of me and my failures. They come and go, sometimes for mere seconds, others many minutes. When they come varies, too, but they are always unexpected. Even after the war, with Voldemort gone and my role as savior finished, I still get them—especially when I think that at any moment the small, peaceful life I've managed to build for myself can so easily drop from below my feet.

"Draco," I plead, shivering again, "Hold me."

And he does.

Always.

* * *

**[A VIXEN NAMED HARRY]**

Draco sat at his computer desk wearing a black robe, his blonde hair pulled back tightly, glasses he only wore inside perched on his nose, and an irritated frown on his face. Harry sat in a plush chair behind him, oblivious to just how crazy he was driving Draco.

"Merlin, Harry, would you stop already?"

Draco turned around and glared.

Harry gave him his most innocent look.

"What?"

Draco sighed. "You've been incessantly tapping your foot for the past hour. I can't concentrate on my work."

"Oh," Harry whispered, obviously dejected.

Draco sighed again, and opened his arms.

"Come here."

* * *

**So, what do you think? =)**


	2. Jealous and Territorial

**Slythindor100 prompt: "jealousy", "territorial", and a picture of a man slapping another man's arse.**

* * *

**[PROSTRATE EXAM]**

**(395 words)**

"Bloody hell, I hate going for that Prostrate exam."

Draco choked on his coffee, soaking his toast with the bit that spilled from his mouth.

"What?" he asked, startled, and turned to Harry who'd just walked into the kitchen.

Harry frowned. "Prostrate exam. You know, exam where the doctor tells you to bend over and shoves  
his-"

Draco choked again, though this time his cup of coffee was far from his mouth.

"I can't believe you, Harry! Why did you go without me? I told you you were never to go unless  
I was there!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Did you honestly believe I would bring you along after the stunt you pulled last  
time?"

Draco scowled. "That man was about to stick his fingers up your arse!"

"That's the point."

"Like hell it is!"

Harry sighed. He walked over to the table and plopped into the seat that Draco had been sitting in.

"Draco, you love me, don't you?"

Draco shot him a confused, 'what, are you crazy?', look. "You know I do, Harry."

"And you wouldn't want me to die, would you?"

Draco now looked fully bewildered. "Of course not! What are you talking about?"

Harry patted Draco's knee and gestured for him to sit down in the opposite chair.

"These exams are so that I won't get cancer, Draco. If I don't go, I wont know if I ever get it. If I  
don't know I have it, I die. You're being ridiculous, you know."

Draco glared at Harry, and turned his head petulantly.

Sighing, Harry conceded, "Alright, I promise I wont go without you, next time."

Moments passed before Draco glanced at Harry from the corner of his eyes and said, "Promise?"

Harry nodded. "Promise. But-"

Draco quirked a brow.

"-next time you can't hex my doctor."

"But- oh, fine!"

"Or tell him that there's nothing to check, since you've already done that."

"...Fine."

"Or try to perform the prostrate exam yourself in front of the doctor."

"But he was checking out your arse!

"Draco."

Draco huffed in irritation. "Fine! But only if he doesn't touch you."

Harry gaped at him.

"You're unbelievable, Draco! I don't know why I got involved with such a jealous boyfriend!"

Draco looked at him hard. "Because we're aggresive in bed."

Harry blushed, turned away from Draco, and attempted to clean the spilled coffee on the table.

Aggressive was an understatement.

* * *

**[A SLAP ON THE ARSE MEANS YOU'RE MINE]**

**(135 words)**

"Harry, that fellow over there is checking out your arse."

Draco said it so loudly that said bloke blushed profusely, ducked his head under the stares of  
everyone, and bolted out of the elevator as soon as the metal doors opened.

Harry sighed. "Draco, was that really necessary?"

Draco sniffed. "Of course it was. I'm only protecting your virtue, you know."

"Or protecting my arse from anyone besides you, you mean."

Draco flipped his blond hair over his shoulders and narrowed his eyes. '"Course I am. Can't be having  
anybody staring at what's-"

Harry yelped as Draco slapped his arse sharply.

"-mine."

Harry flushed darkly and shot out of the elevator as soon as it stopped on the floor of his department.

"Territorial bastard." he growled at him.

Draco smirked. "And you love me for it."

* * *

**-Smiles-  
**


	3. Empty

**DracoHarry100 prompt: Empty**

**100 words each.**

* * *

**[MALFOY'S GOLD]**

Harry was sitting in the kitchen when Draco rushed in.

"Harry!" he screamed.

"What the hell, Draco?"

"It's empty, Harry! You stole it! Give it back!" Draco shouted.

"What are you talking about?" Harry demanded.

"My piggy bank! It was empty when I checked on it! I knew you were going to steal my collection of muggle pennies! You thief! I-"

"Stashed your muggle pennies away inside your pillow to hide it from me so I wouldn't steal it, remember?"

Draco froze, narrowed his eyes, and then shouted, "That's right!" before bolting out of the kitchen.

Harry sighed.

* * *

**[DRACO, DARLING]**

"Harry, darling, buy me a new car, would you? Mine's ruined."

"You mean that little scratch the size of a strand of hair?" Harry quirked a brow.

Draco nodded. "Ghastly, isn't it?"

Harry sighed. "I can't, Draco. My wallet's empty."

Draco frowned. "Your wallet's empty? Well, go put something in it, then. We were talking about my new car, remember?"

"No, Draco. It's just an expression muggles use when they've got no money."

"Oh," Draco wrinkled his nose. "Why haven't you got any money?"

Harry scowled. "Because you bought that car!"

Draco stared at Harry, blankly. "Oh, that's right."

* * *

**[A DIFFERENT SORT OF HUNGRY]**

"I'm so hungry, Harry!" Draco whined.

Draco had been whining since Harry came home from the burrow. He wouldn't tell him what he wanted, and said that Harry had to figure it out himself.

The git.

Harry sighed. "How 'bout a some curry, then?"

"No."

"Fruit?"

"No."

"Teriyaki?"

"No."

"Egg salad?"

"No."

"Sushi?

"Ew, no."

"Then what do you want, Draco?" Harry snapped, at his wits end.

Draco stared at him, then his lips curved into a seductive smirk. He leaned over, pressed his hands over Harry's jean-clad cock, and whispered, "You."

Harry gaped.

Draco smiled. "Fill me up?"

= An Empty Mouth =

(100 words)

"Something's wrong, Harry."

Harry quirked his brow at Draco.

"What?"

They were naked. Harry was leaning over Draco, straddling his hips with his thighs.

"You. Me. Something's missing."

Harry frowned. He silently prayed that they hadn't reached the point where sex would be getting boring. It would be humiliating, since Harry still found their sex life to be exciting, no matter what they did.

"What?" he asked again, tentatively.

"My mouth," Draco said seriously. "Is empty."

Realization dawned on Harry, and he sighed in relief.

Feeling more assured, he smirked, "So what will it be, then? My lips or my cock?"

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. Mock

**DracoHarry100 Prompt: Mock.**

**Length: 100 (more or less) x10**

* * *

He's still here, as always, though I'm not very sure where _here_ is, exactly. But he's with me, and that's enough. Or not enough, I can never discern.

His green eyes are scorching. They look at me—burning brilliantly, the color of emeralds and jade—and I want to cower. Want to duck my head in my arms and fade away. Want to curl in on myself and hide. He never lets me though, the bastard. When I try, he lifts my chin with his large hands and only stares harder. Deeper.

Times like those, I wish I couldn't see.

* * *

I hate it, especially, when he smiles at me. That tiny curl of his lips, the small rise of his cheeks, that gleam in his eyes. He smiles often. Too often. I hate it when he smiles. And then, right after, he would say, "Draco, everything will be fine."

I hate those fucking words, more.

Everything's fine, he says. Fine. Fine. Fine. I'm fine. He must think me an idiot, not knowing that. I'm always fine. I'm always fine. Everything's fine. Everything was fine before. Everything is fine now. Everything will be fine.

Fine! See if I bloody care.

* * *

Oh, I remember, now. I'm at St. Mungos. Yes, how could I have forgotten? It should've been as clear as day, what with the white walls and white ceiling and white floors and white curtains and white cups and white milk and white potions.

Even I'm white. White skin, almost-white eyes and hair, white teeth, white nails, white gown, white slippers. The Healers and Mediwizards all wear white, too. We love the color white.

Oh, but not _him_. Never him. He can't stand it, always wearing dark robes and bringing colorful flowers and sweets and his black hair and green eyes…

* * *

"Do you want to go outside today, Draco?" he asks as he usually does every other day.

Of course I don't fucking want to go outside. I like it in here, thank you very much. It's nice here. It's quiet. It's safe. I know here. Outside—I don't know that place. I used to, but not anymore. It's not my fault. I didn't change it. It decided to change itself. Not my fault at all. So no, I don't want to.

I tell him this and he says, "Everything will be fine."

And it will. As soon as he leaves.

* * *

He's not here today. Sometimes he isn't, though I tend to forget. It's because he's here so much. I can never remember the days when he isn't.

He went off to see the Weasels. Oh, and the badger. For tea, he said. Tea and scones and biscuits.

No matter. I'll just stay in bed all day, in my white sheets, and stare up at the white ceiling. I don't think I'll eat today, either. I'm not very hungry. In fact, I don't feel much of anything. Aside anger. Aside frustration. Aside longer.

I hate that I wonder when he'll come back.

* * *

He returns the next day, in his Auror robes. I hate those robes, all midnight blue and fiery red. Horrible colors. They don't match at all. He comes storming in, like he owns the place, his Auror robes billowing around him, flaunting.

If I still had my wand—if my wand were still whole—I would cast _Incenido _on them. On him. On it. On both.

"So, do you have any plans for today, Draco?" he asks, seating himself in the chair beside my bed, and smiling that stupid, infuriating smile of his.

I don't say anything. I just glare.

* * *

I screamed at him last night. I told him I hated him. Was tired of his face. Not to come back. He looked hurt. And then angry. And then he screamed something back and stormed off.

We fight often. Fight. More like argue. On his part, since I never argue back. Arguing with him is beneath me at this point. It's because he's so intractable. I can't stand the prat. I can't stand him. He must know what's he doing. He must. Not even he—a stupid Gryffindor—can be so naïve.

How could he knot know?

He wouldn't come otherwise.

* * *

"Why are you always so mad at me?"

I blink—once, twice—then bow my head slowly. Well. Where should I start? A simple "Because I hate you" would've sufficed, but I feel adventurous today. In my head, I say, It's because, Potter, you wear Auror robes to visit me. _Auror _robes! And because you visit the weasel and the badger. But where are my goons, Potter? Where are they, now? Because you ask if I'm fine. Of course I'm fine! I'm a Malfoy! Malfoy's are _always_ fine, aren't they? Aren't I?

I don't say this, though. I never do.

* * *

"Why are you always so mad at me?"

This is the second time he's asked me this week.

I smirk at him, and continue where I left off: Because your smiles are condescending. Because your stares are piercing. Because your eyes are green and your hair is black and skin is peach and this room is white. Because you tell me things are alright. I hate that, you know. Almost as much as I hate you kissing my forehead every afternoon and night before I sleep. I hate that, too.

I just hate you, and have since I was eleven.

* * *

"Do you want to go outside today, Draco?"

If he ever asks me why I'm always so mad with him, I'll add that question and the use of my given name on his lips to the list of my accumulating reasons. In fact, maybe I'll write a book about it. I have enough material, surely. Enough for two books, or maybe three.

"No," I say, hoarsely. I don't want to. I never want to.

"Tomorrow, then," he assures me. Assures himself.

"Go away, Potter." I tell him.

He smiles at me mockingly- always mockingly- and I scowl.

He'll stay. He always does.

* * *

**I've been wanting to write something like this for a while. Mentally-unstable!Draco, I mean. Ever since I read Pir8Fancier's "Let's Pretend The War Is Over". The stories are obviously different in intent and purpose. That aside, this prompt was the perfect opportunity to get this off my chest. Really. Draco is obviously a bit insane, and I love him for it. I love Harry for it.**

**I hope the prompt, "mock", came through as well as I wanted it to.**


	5. Lost

**DracoHarry100 Prompt #135: Lost**

**Word Count: 100 x 9 (roughly 900 words)**

* * *

Draco glanced around him, quickly. He hadn't a clue where he was. Harry had wanted some sort of music device called an _IPOD_ for his birthday, and had hinted at Draco that he would be able to find one almost anywhere in the muggle world. Draco, wanting to please his hard working boyfriend, had ventured out to muggle London to find one.

That had been over four hours ago.

The sun had fallen from the sky long ago, and it was almost eerily dark. Draco stopped and stared at a building he was passing, and cursed.

To him, they all looked the same.

* * *

Harry Potter paced his large office thunderously, at his wits end. He'd apparated to Malfoy Manor three hours ago, and Narcissa had told him that Draco hadn't returned since he stepped out a while before to go shopping.

They'd had an appointment at _Wingardium_ at 7:00, and it was already 9:40.

"Harry Potter, sir?"

"Have you found anything?" Harry snapped at his understudy.

The young boy jumped, then nodded quickly. "Yes, sir. Mr. Malfoy's magical signature was traced to Muggle London. The last spell he used was _Stupefy_—"

"Send an auror squad!" Harry shouted, and apparated out without another word.

* * *

Draco would never admit it to anyone, but he was scared out of his fucking mind. He seemed to pass the same buildings at every block, and couldn't remember, for the life of him, which direction he came from.

The streets were empty, aside from the occasional muggle that sauntered by, and Draco would rather die than ask a _muggle_ for assistance. He might catch something.

Draco heard a rustling sound from behind him, and he tore his wand out of his pocket and whipped around. There, sprinting at him, was a man.

Draco screamed and cast without thinking.

* * *

Harry had been running for ages. Bloody hell, muggle London was _huge. _He hadn't stopped running and shouting Draco's name since he apparated, even when a squad of ten aurors came to his aid. He'd instructed them to search, too.

"Mr. Potter!" One of them shouted. Harry turned around and rushed over to the woman whose name he couldn't remember.

"Yes?" he gasped, panting.

"We saw a flash of light coming from—," she turned and pointed to the right, "—that way."

Harry didn't acknowledge anything else as he turned on his heel and sprinted in the direction she pointed.

* * *

Draco was staring at the ground at the person who'd been chasing him, and the other blokes who had tried to attack him afterward. A cool breeze brushed past him, and he shivered.

Merlin, he wanted to go home. He was lost in muggle London, hungry, cold, feet aching, and being attacked by muggles left and right.

He wanted to go home. He wanted _Harry_.

Draco heard something, and glanced up. Someone was dashing at him and screaming something he couldn't distinguish. Draco pointed his wand, prepared to attack again, when his name flooded into his ears.

It was Harry.

* * *

"Draco!" Harry shouted, and nearly tripped over his own feet when a familiar blonde came into his view.

"Harry!" Draco cleared the distance between them all but threw himself into Harry's arms.

"I was so scared, Harry!" Draco cried, burrowing his face into the crook of Harry's neck, and sagging into him with relief and exhaustion. "I was lost and cold and hungry and muggles kept on attacking me!"

Harry leaned away from Draco and spluttered, "What did you say?"

Draco nodded, eyes wide, and gestured to the ground—where a dozen muggles lay knocked out.

* * *

"They attacked you?" Harry asked him, bewildered.

Draco nodded. "From out of nowhere! This man over there, the sweaty fellow with the baggy grey pants, was running right at me, so I stunned him! Next thing I know, muggles are coming to me in swarms, all shouting! I didn't know what to do, Harry, so I stun them all."

Harry nodded at him, eyes wide, and Draco sighed.

"I want to go home, Harry." He said, glancing over Harry's shoulder at the group of aurors that were running towards them. He wasn't surprised; Harry had always been protective of him.

"Alright."

* * *

Harry stroked Draco's hair as he slept, naked under the covers, and glanced at the letter on his lap—a note from his understudy informing him that the muggles who'd been running at Draco were athletes; all jogging to prepare for a meet the next day. His team had taken care of the muggles, at least.

Harry decided that he wouldn't tell Draco about that. He wouldn't tell him that he found the green _IPOD_in his robes, either.

Draco had gotten lost to get Harry what he wanted, and didn't deserve humiliation after everything. Harry would make sure to it.

* * *

Draco, having fallen asleep before Harry, had woken up before him. As quietly as possible, he slipped from the bed, returned the covers to Harry's naked form, silently picked up his discarded robes and removed the IPOD from his pockets. Draco put the muggle device into his drawer and spelled it shut.

There.

Just as quietly, he slipped back into bed, and sighed contentedly as Harry wrapped his arms around him. He'd been attacked by muggles and gotten lost but… Harry had found him. Draco snuggled closer to Harry and closed his eyes.

He always did, and Draco loved him for it.

* * *

**A/N: Tell me what you think!**


	6. Interruptions

_**Written for HP_Fluff's "Fluffy Halloween Fest"**_

**Prompt:** Hermione hosts a costume party and insists Harry/Draco attend.

**~700 words**

* * *

**[INTERRUPTIONS]**

"She's going to be pissed if we don't attend." Harry murmured against Draco's smooth cheek.

"Her problem," Draco muttered back, and ceased further talk by crashing his lips against Harry's.

They tumbled onto the sofa, tearing off their clothes and touching as much as possible.

"Fuck, Draco—I'm going to burst."

Draco chuckled, then hissed when Harry slipped his hand around his waist and cupped his arse cheeks, squeezing them firmly.

"God, Harry, I want you so bad."

"Me, too, Draco; me, too—"

"Harry! Draco! What are you doing!"

Both men jumped in alarm at the furious voice, and snapped their heads towards the fireplace, where Hermione's fiery head glared at them from the flames.

"I told you that you were _not_ going to blow this party off! I want both of you at the Burrow in ten minutes top!"

"But Hermione—," Harry started, flushed.

"No buts, Harry James Potter! Don't make me come through!"

Draco glared at her from under Harry, "Listen, Granger—,"

"Malfoy, you'll do good to remember just who exactly your boss is!" she snapped.

Draco spluttered, "You wouldn't—,"

"Watch me." She glared.

Draco clenched his jaw, dropped his head, and buried his face in the crook of Harry's shoulder. Harry thought he heard something about blood and intestines coming from his lover, but he couldn't be sure.

Or surprised, if he was being honest with himself.

"Now, I want both of you decent _and _in costume in ten minutes. If you're not there, I'll be coming straight through the floo to collect you."

She paused, and then added for good measure. "And don't bother trying to close it off. I can disable a closed floo faster than Harry could catch a snitch." And with that, she pulled back into the flames and disappeared.

Harry and Draco stood there, staring at the face-less fire.

"I really want to kill her right now, Harry."

Harry sighed. So did he, he thought wearily.

"Come on then; let's get dressed."

Draco made a whining sound. "But I'm still hard, Harry!"

Harry shot him a look. "Use a charm or something, Draco. We don't have time."

Pouting, Draco crossed his arms over his naked chest. "Harry, I'm so hard I'm going to burst. You won't leave me like this, will you?" To emphasize his point, he uncrossed his arms and ran his hands down his flat stomach, stopping just short of his blonde, curly pubic hairs

Harry trailed the movement hungrily.

"It'll only take me five minutes to come, Harry." He dropped his eyes suggestively, and licked his lips at the sight of Harry's hard length pushing through his red briefs. "Five minutes for us _both_ to come."

Harry groaned, and arched his hips slightly.

"Draco," he whined, but was already kneeing forward.

Draco smiled. "Sixty-nine. We'll kill two birds."

Harry's eyes glazed over.

"Five minutes, with five minutes to spare." Harry agreed. And really, he should have known that Draco was lying. Draco took longer than that to brush his _teeth_.

"I want to suck your cock." Draco whispered, and moved his hand, which had been tracing the base of his own hardness, towards Harry.

"Well, you can do that _after_ the party, then."

They both startled again. Draco even made a weird choking sound.

Sure enough, there Hermione was, dusting soot off her cat-costume.

"You're costumes are upstairs, yeah? I'll go bring them down. And do cover up, will you, boys? It's indecent."

Hermione strolled right past them, in the direction of the hall.

"I _really_ want to kill her." Draco said through gritted teeth, though removed himself from the sofa and slipped on his robe.

Harry sighed, and mourned the loss of Draco's skin.

"Me, too." He said, loud enough that he hoped Hermione heard him.

"Come on, then." Draco grumbled, and slipped his hand into Harry's.

As they headed towards the hallway, Harry thought of all the ways he could get back at Hermione at the party. Ways that involved Draco's naked skin and coming, of course.

By the leer Draco sent his way, and the mischievous smirk that formed on his wicked face, Harry knew that Draco was thinking the exact same thing.

* * *

**A/N: I wrote a second part to this story. Altogether it was over 1k, however, so I had to make it it's own story. You can find the entire (and better edited) fic on my profile.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	7. Throbbing

**DracoHarry100- Prompt#136: Throbbing**

**~100 words**

* * *

I look across the Great Hall, in the direction of the Slytherin table.

_Ba-bam._

There he is, as always, sitting between Parkinson and Zabini. Pansy whispers something in his ear, and he throws his head back and laughs.

_Ba-bam._

He straightens out and stiffens, and I think he realizes he's being watched. When his eyes snap in my direction, I'm not quick enough to furtively avert my gaze.

_Ba-bam. _Look away. _Ba-bam. _Look away.

I don't, and he smiles at me.

Condescendingly.

Knowingly.

_Ba-bam. Ba-bam._

My heart's throbbing so hard it hurts.

_Ba-bam._

I love you, you git.

I love you.

* * *

**A/N: Only one this time. Sorry about that. Anyways, thanks so much for the reviews!**


	8. Passionate Embrace

**DracoHarry100- Prompt#136: Passionate Embrace**

**Word Count: **100 x 3 (~300)

**Theme: **Secret relationship & Coming Out

* * *

Dead bodies were scattered on the ground, but I stepped over them, absently.

I had to keep moving. I had to keep moving forward.

Someone called my name, but I paid them no mind. When a hand latched itself onto my robe, I tugged myself away.

But I was so tired, and he wasn't anywhere in sight.

I kept hearing my name being called, but I ignored them all. They weren't him. They weren't his voice. None of them were.

Forward. Forward. Forward.

"Harry!"

* * *

I froze, and turned around.

His voice was like salvation. His voice was like peace.

My eyes began to focus, and suddenly I could see better. Could see him, running toward me. Could see him stumbling over dead bodies and ignoring his name being called and avoiding hexes flown at him.

"Don't curse at him!" I shouted, angrily. I'd kill anyone who did.

In seconds he came crashing into me, right into my arms. I embraced him tightly, not caring that he wore death eater robes. He was with me, after all. Always was.

"He's dead," I said into dirty blond locks.

"I don't care."

* * *

And he didn't, I know he didn't. "Just come back alive," he told me when I first headed out to battle. He didn't care if Voldemort lived or died. I just wasn't to play hero.

"I thought you died," He whispered.

"I thought I did, too," I whispered back.

I could hear murmurs around us, everyone alive wondering what the hell was going on. They didn't know. They didn't know that Draco and I had gotten together three years ago, back in fourth year. They had questions, surely, that needed answering.

And I would answer them.

Later.

After our passionate embrace.

* * *

**A/N: **I hope you all had a great Halloween. I love the month of November! It's probably because my birthday is this month (The seventeenth!). Anyone else a November-baby? Or a Scorpio?

Anyways, thanks for reading!


	9. Profile

**Challenge: Written for DracoHarry100's prompt #144- Profile**

**~100 x 2**

* * *

**[DRACO UNDERCOVER]**

Draco knew he had to keep a low profile, what with the Dark Side after him. It was for this reason that he snuck out of Grimmauld Place at midnight, face covered, and dressed heavily in black (for stealth, obviously).

Despite what everyone said Draco needed good Shampoo—not that cheap goop that Potter used. And really, as if Draco would use anything that Potter put on that bird's nest he called hair.

He'd be damned if his hair became as tragic as Potter's. He'd rather kill himself.

Draco scanned the area carefully then pulled out his wand and said, "Apparate".

* * *

Harry paused from under his invisibility cloak just as Draco disappeared, then closed his eyes and followed the residual string of magic. He wasn't surprised when he found himself in front of Madame Pinkle's Shop Of Beauty.

Diagon Alley was, luckily enough, empty. Harry fell into the shadows as Draco, with his bright blond hair standing out like fire in a cave, slipped into the store.

So much for keeping a low profile, he thought dryly.

Not five minutes later did Draco slip out again, holding onto a pink bag, and disapparated back.

Harry shook his head, sighed, and followed suit.

* * *

**A/N: I actually did a bit of art accompanying these drabbles. It's a picture of Draco, actually, all dressed like a spy ;) If you're interested, you can follow this link: http :/ reikokatsura . livejournal . com / 25739 . html# cutid1 (without spaces). **

**I hope you all enjoyed this bit of silliness! I'll try to write more drabbles this month! Happy Feb!**


	10. Blink

**[An Interrupted Kiss by an Eyelash of Doom]**

**A/N: **Rated G, 100 words, and a big ball of fluff.

**Challenge: **DracoHarry100's prompt #146- Blink

* * *

"It hurts, Harry!"

"Then keep still, Draco," Harry pressed. He cupped Draco's face with his hands and started to blow, hoping to cast the fallen eyelash away.

"Ugh," Draco groaned, "your breath smells like peanuts."

"Shut up. And stop blinking, would you? I'm trying to get this bloody thing out."

"Please hurry, Harry! It really, _really _hurts!"

"Baby," Harry muttered.

_Two minutes later…_

"There," he beamed at Draco, holding the dark strand between his fingers. "Isn't that better."

Draco peered at the lash and then scowled at Harry.

"That eyelash wasn't even _mine_!"

Harry glanced down and grinned sheepishly. "Oops."

* * *

**[Colorful World (and colorful arse)]**

**A/N: **Rated PG-13, 100 words, and just a random piece.

**Challenge: **DracoHarry100's prompt #146- Blink

* * *

It had been a spell gone wrong, and now every time Harry blinked and opened his eyes he saw the world a different color.

Blink: red.

Blink: purple.

Blink: yellow.

Harry looked up and the sight of Malfoy coming toward him made him startle.

Blink: green.

"My," Harry commented, "aren't you looking a bit green today."

"Fuck off, Potter," Malfoy snapped, and shoved past him.

Harry's head turned as Malfoy walked away, and his gaze dropped. He was right; Malfoy had a sexy arse no matter what color.

Harry turned and solemnly wished he'd been able to see beneath clothing, instead.

* * *

**A/N: Tell me what you think! Thanks for reading!**


	11. Marriage Renewals

**Written for DracoHarry100's Challenge #152- Renewal**

**Length: 100 x 3 | Rating: Brief NC-17**

* * *

**[MARRIAGE RENEWALS]**

"It's about time we renew our wedding documents." Draco said, glancing over at Harry.

Harry's spoon of porridge paused half-way to his mouth and he scowled. "Again? Has it been a year already?"

Draco gave him a _look_.

Harry had the decency to blush.

"You know what I mean, Dray."

Draco sighed. "I do."

"I don't see why straight couples don't have to renew _their_ documents."

"Because apparently, my dear Harry, gay couples can't be counted on to remain monogamous."

Harry sneered with a mouth full of food, "Bullocks."

Draco smiled weakly. "You're telling me."

Harry patted his husband's knee reassuringly.

* * *

"We've been married for five bloody years and they're still asking us the same stupid questions! '_Are you positive you want to renew your documents, Mr. Malfoy-Potter? Do you see you and your husband together for another year, Mr. Potter-Malfoy?'_ It's bloody ridiculous!"

Draco kissed Harry's cheek soothingly and ushered him onto the couch.

"There, there, love. No need to get yourself worked up."

Harry pouted. "But _Draco_-"

"We've just had our marriage license renewed," Draco interrupted, grabbing Harry's hand and interlacing their fingers. "You know what that means, don't you?"

Harry shook his head.

Draco smirked. "We're newlyweds."

* * *

Harry watched in fascination as his cock pulled out of Draco's arse and a line of creamy white cum came pouring out. Draco grunted from the bed and collapsed onto it, his arms giving out.

Head still whirling from his orgasm, Harry fell down beside him and scooted into Draco's side.

"Bloody fucking hell." Draco breathed.

"Yeah," Harry gasped back.

A few more moments of stunned silence passed before Harry broke it.

"Good to know our sex life doesn't need renewing." He said, honestly.

"Amen," Draco agreed.

More moments passed, and then…

"Let's do it again."

"Alright. But I'm topping."

* * *

**A/N****: **As you can probably tell, I've changed the name of this collection again. It is now "Mis Amas Vin". And y'know, I think this is what I'm going to keep it as (unless something amazingly better comes along). I should have named it this sooner. 'Mis Amas Vin' means "I love/like you" (can mean both, and generally depends on the context in which it's spoken/meant) in Esperanto. It's something I picked up from the Shounen-Ai manga "La Esperanto" years ago, and it just stuck. Hope you like the new title!

**Also, thanks for reading!**


	12. Disappointed

**Challenge: DracoHarry100's Prompt #162: Disappointed**

**Word Count: 100x9 (~900)**

* * *

**[A NIGHT'S WORTH OF DISAPPOINTMENTS]**

Draco was disappointed.

They'd been dating for one year already. Sure, it was a bit early all things considered, but he and Harry certainly weren't getting any younger (as much as it pained him to think). Harry was laying on his side facing the wall, sulking still that Draco had been subdued all throughout their dinner date. It wasn't that Draco wasn't grateful that Harry had gone all out—if anything, his usually stoic boyfriend's attempts at being romantic made him all kinds of happy. He'd expected more, though, and had been unable to suppress his disappointment when it wasn't delivered.

* * *

Harry could hear Draco rustling about on the opposite side of the bed. He knew Draco was worried that he was upset, but since he _was_ he just didn't feel the need to have him think otherwise, even if it was only to make his boyfriend feel better. Fact of the matter was that Harry had tried _so damn hard_ to be romantic and show Draco just how much he cared for him. It had hurt like hell when Draco had acted as if hadn't been enough.

Harry sighed and squeezed his pillow. What was he doing wrong?

* * *

Draco worried his lip between his teeth as he thought. They'd never officially made announcements to move in together, had instead just lapsed into staying at the other's house whenever it was convenient, so perhaps Draco shouldn't have been so quick to assume that Harry would pop _that_ question. He figured anyone would expect that, though, if their partner of a year took them to an established foreign restaurant for a candlelit dinner on a balcony under the moonlight. There had even been _musicians_. So either Harry was particularly daft, or just had no intention whatsoever of marrying Draco.

Draco wanted to cry.

* * *

Harry wondered if it had been the food. Draco never showed much interest in French cuisine, despite his lineage. If he recalled closely, he could sort of remember Draco making a funny face when they brought out that fish thing. Or perhaps that had been pork. He never bothered to ask.

Maybe it had been his fault, after all. He hadn't considered what kind of music Draco might have preferred to listen to, or wines to drink. He'd just assumed that Draco would have a good time doing something different, and had left it at that.

Some boyfriend he was.

* * *

Draco couldn't take it anymore. He _had_ to apologize to Harry for upsetting him. He could tell Harry was still awake from the absence of arms around his chest and legs in between his. It had been so long since they'd last slept apart—since Draco had accidentally said the Weasley-chit looked a bit like a pregnant horse…to her _face_—and he truly did not want to make a habit of it.

Draco took a few moments to gather his thoughts into a what he hoped was a good apology for being a prat, and turned around.

"I'm sorry—"

* * *

"I'm sorry."

Harry had missed Draco's warmth. He missed it immensely. He'd been fully prepared to apologize, though for what exactly he wasn't quite sure, if it meant having Draco in his arms and falling asleep with that head of blond hair tucked underneath his chin and another heartbeat to match his own.

His eyes opened wide as Draco's soft voice moved over his, and he turned over to stare at his partner.

"What?"

Draco was looking at him with a bewildered expression. "Did you just apologize, Harry?"

Harry nodded.

If possible, Draco looked even more confused. "But _why_?"

* * *

Harry gave him an unimpressed look. "You're the one angry with me. You should know why."

Draco was fully aware that he looked like an idiot with his mouth hanging open, but it refused to lift.

"Why would I be angry at _you_?" he said disbelievingly. "You should be angry at _me_."

Harry shook his head. "I'm the one that made you skip your weekly dinner with your parents to take you on a date you were dissatisfied with, Draco. I should have thought more about what you wanted to do, instead of just making assumptions as I had—ow!"

* * *

Draco blew on the knuckles he'd hit Harry's arm with—admittedly a bit harder than he expected to—and watched his dunderheaded boyfriend rub the sore skin.

"Merlin, Draco! What was that for?" Harry snapped, glaring.

"That was for being an idiot," Draco snapped back. He exhaled deeply and said again in a much calmer voice. "And for being so loveable."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows and opened his mouth, about to ask what Draco had meant, but Draco quickly cut him off with a fierce kiss to his lips.

"Sometimes," he said, pulling away, "I don't know what I did to deserve you."

* * *

Harry made to ask what Draco was talking about again, but then Draco's lips had returned to his, and those strong arms he loved so much wrapped around his neck, and all thoughts of talk alone flew out of his head like a bird to the springtime. They kissed passionately for what felt like hours, gliding their tongues together and grasping at what skin they could touch.

Draco broke away, panting. "It's alright if you don't want to marry me now. I can wait."

Harry froze. "Marr—? What?"

But then Draco's expert mouth was back and Harry forgot everything else.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you all liked that one! It's been a while since I've written anything, so sorry if it came out a bit lame. On another note, has any of you read "The Adrien English Mystery Series" by Josh Lanyon? It's a mystery/horror/original slash novel series that's just _so good _and I highly recommend people getting the books. I read all four novels in three days and honestly, it was one of the best three days I've had in a while ." Two other remarkable stories (both gay-romance) is "The God Eaters" by Jesse Hajicek and "The Shadow of the Templar" series my M. Chandler. Both of those you can read online and/or purchase. Actually, I downloaded the Adrien English Mysteries series before I bought them. Though, I probably shouldn't have said that. Lol! Ebooks are great and all, but I'm a paperback/hardcover collector. If I like it I absolutely must have it on my shelf or else I'd go crazy. Hee.**

**Anyways, thanks for reading!**


	13. Thank You

**Written for ****hd_seasons'** _International 'Thank You' Day Challenge_.

**Length: ~523 **

**Summary: On 'International Thank-You Day', Harry can think of no other person he'd rather thank than Hermione.**

* * *

**[WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR]**

Harry had many things to be thankful of Hermione for. Helping him keep up in school, making sure he didn't get in too much trouble, and being someone he could confide in, as well as his voice of reason, was just the beginning of where he should probably start. Without Hermione, Harry was quite positive he wouldn't have survived his years at Hogwarts, let alone the terrible time _out_of it, when they'd been chasing Horcruxes to bring down Voldemort.

Harry doubted there was any way he could really make up for all Hermione Granger had done for him. He did the best he could, though, when situations arose where Hermione needed help, and holidays like Christmas where he could put the money Sirius had left him to good use and buy her something she'd be interested in but otherwise couldn't possibly afford (like the collection of Wizarding Encyclopedias, written by the Four Founders themselves, that purchasing had left a considerable dent in Harry's vaults).

This, however... well, Harry was quite sure he'd never be able to repay her for it.

If Hermione hadn't suggested returning Draco Malfoy's wand after the war, hadn't pushed him into mending bridges and offering Malfoy his friendship, hadn't been the first- and probably only- person to point out that he and Draco looked good together, Harry never would have considered them being such. He would have never noticed that Draco could look sexy with his hair down, or that the way he scrunched his nose when he scowled was really quite adorable. He would have never noticed how much he really did enjoy Draco's company, and that the way they teased each other bordered on flirting, which wasn't exactly normal among mates.

He would have never noticed the looks Draco sometimes sent his way, either, as if trying to say "Look at me, Harry. I'm right here". Would have never taken him up on it and initiated the first kiss. Would never be where he was now, sharing a house and life with Draco Malfoy, who he was quite certain was the love of his existence.

So when Harry caught wind of it being International Thank-You Day, the first thing he did was head straight for Hermione's. He didn't care that he was still in his pajamas and that it was cold outside. He didn't even bother waking Draco up to tell him where he'd be going. He apparated straight to her and Ron's house and knocked on the door, knowing, the early bird she was, that she'd already be up.

Not a moment later and the door opened, revealing a slightly puzzled Hermione. Harry ignored the obvious question in her eyes. He went up to her and wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her so tight she probably had trouble breathing. He buried his nose in her bushy hair and closed his eyes and forced his hug to say what his words, and money, couldn't.

As usual, with Hermione, he didn't need to speak to convey what he was trying to say. She hugged him back, just as strongly, and said "You're welcome, Harry."

And Harry knew she understood.

* * *

**Thanks for reading. Reviews are, as always, welcome. =] **


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